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Elodie farts, then makes a noise that sounds like she’s laughing at herself.
Can babies laugh?
I look down at her, and her violet eyes are staring back at me, wide open. “So that’s what you think of me, huh, kid?” I stand from the couch and sway side to side the way Emerson and Carys do when they’re holding her. Hoping it keeps her happy. “Your dad used to laugh when he farted too. He liked to make us all laugh, and he was good at it. He was good at a lot of things. He loved you. Your mom sent him pictures of you in her belly every week. Just so he wouldn’t miss a thing. He wanted to give you all the things he never had. Talked about it all the time.”
He should be here now, holding her. Not me. “I promise I’ll tell you all about him, okay?” I kiss her head when she fidgets against me, and my heart melts as she stills. Those eyes are Emerson’s, but man, she looks so much like Linc.
By the time Carys comes downstairs with a green binky in her hand, Elodie has fallen asleep, and I’ve fallen completely in love with this tiny human.
“You’re a natural, Coop.” She stands in front of me and covers Elodie in a tiny pink-and-white blanket. “Want me to take her from you?”
“Nah.” I sit down in the corner of the couch and kick my legs up on the ottoman. “I’ve got her. Let her sleep.”
“You look good holding her.” She sits down next to me, and our legs touch, sending an extra buzz of awareness through my skin. “How’s your incision feel?”
“Better every day.”Mostly. “The headaches are still there, but they said that could take a few more weeks.”
Carys moves her hand behind my head and starts massaging the base of my skull, and I moan. “Tell me about being home before...” I leave off the rest.
We both know I mean before the op.
Before the call.
Before Linc died.
“Chloe and I are working on a new line, using the most gorgeous French lace I’ve ever seen. It’s teal and black. It reminds me of the feather I found on the beach that night last year.” Her fingers stop for a second. “Do you remember?”
“Like I could ever forget.” I turn my head to her. “That feather’s been on every mission with me since you gave it to me.”
“Coop...” Her hand drops away, and she stands, pulling away emotionally and physically. “I’m going to take Elodie back upstairs.” She scoops the baby out of my arms and doesn’t look back.
I stand and follow her to the stairs. “Who’s running now, Carys?”
Carys turns slowly toward me. “I’m right here, fighting for us. But you need to figure out if you love me or hate me, Coop. Because this...” She motions between the two of us. “This back-and-forth, where I think I’m getting somewhere with you and then you push me away... That hurts. And I’m too tired tonight for hurt. Honestly, I don’t know how much more of it I can take without breaking.”
She leans in on shaky legs and kisses my cheek. “I know what I want, and I’ll fight for it, but don’t keep giving me hope and then tearing it away.”
“I wasn’t trying to do that...”
Carys places a hand on my chest. “I know. But that’s exactly what you’re doing. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. And I love you. Now, it’s time foryouto figure out how you feel.” She drops her hand and turns around, taking Elodie back upstairs.
I watch her as she slips back into Emerson’s room and closes the door behind her.
I already know how I feel. It’s time to stop holding back.
I’m done watching this woman walk away.
I may still be heartbrokenover the fact I’ll never carry my own baby, but thirty-six hours of helping Emerson with Elodie has me wanting to sleep for a week.
So heartbroken, yes.
In a rush for a baby, no.
I just finished showering for the second time today because Elodie spit up in my hair. The smell is still stuck in my nostrils. But I somehow managed to pull myself together enough for dinner with Aiden.Begrudgingly. I still don’t know if this is a good idea.
When the doorbell rings a few minutes later, I guess it’s too late to cancel.
I hurry down the stairs and come face-to-face with my brother, who’s holding a crying Elodie, and for a moment, I remember he’s only a few months away from becoming a father himself.
